Chapter 23 #2
“Thank you for everything, Sig. For listening to me, for being there for me even when I lied and pushed you away, for fighting for me and believing in me. I finally know what true friendship feels like, and if I never have another again, at least I had you. I wouldn’t have made it through any of this without you. ”
Her lip quivers as her hands slide down my arms until they clasp my fingers tight. I squeeze back, then let her go, because as hard as that moment was, I know I’m not the one she needs to let go of the most.
“Signee,” Weston says softly.
Hesitantly, she turns to him, the tears in her eyes welling again before she throws herself at him.
She digs her face into his chest, her harsh cries still audible despite how smothered she is into him, and he wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her gently.
Weston doesn’t move, letting her cry in his arms the same way he lets me, and after a few moments, he leans down, and says something in her ear, quiet enough that neither Jorn nor I can hear.
His words only make her cry harder, her sobs echoing around us until she leans back and punches him in the arm, before turning away and running her palm across her face.
He smiles softly, but I can still see the sadness in his eyes as he pulls the pouch from his belt.
“Don’t be a stranger,” I say, smiling through my now quiet tears.
“Do you really think either of you could get rid of me?” Sig says with a sniff. “Maybe you’ll finally leave that castle and come visit.”
“Count on it,” I say. “I’ll be expecting an invitation.”
Weston holds the pouch out to them, and both reach out, their hands disappearing into the fabric, only to reappear a moment later, the space between their fingers glowing brightly despite the light of the day.
It’s as if the rest of the island falls away as they turn toward each other.
Nothing else exists—not Weston, not me, not the crash of the waves or the heat of the suns.
Sig and Jorn stare into each other’s eyes, unspoken words passing between them.
Jorn leans down and gives her one last brush of a kiss, then, their movements mirroring each other, they each lift an arm, and let the dust fall over their heads.
The gold sparkles and the air starts to shimmer as my friends slowly disappear, leaving Weston and me alone.
The only two left in Dawnlin.
I stare at the empty space Sig and Jorn occupied just moments ago, my eyes aching from all the crying, and my jaw clenching so hard my teeth feel like they are going to crack. My eyes sweep over the normally bustling deck, the emptiness making the pit in my stomach feel even deeper.
When my gaze finally settles on Weston, I swallow hard.
“It’s our turn, princess.”
Hot anger bubbles up inside me, completely overshadowing the sorrow and emptiness I felt only a moment ago, and I finally snap.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop fucking calling me that!”
After all the history between us, everything he had to get past to see me as me, not the princess he had to protect, it frustrates me knowing he won’t stop, even though I have asked.
It became a joke after he finally uttered my name for the first time, but now, after all of this, I don’t want to be reminded of every time I felt rejected by him because of his duty and oath to my father.
Especially not now, not in one of the hardest moments of my life, after I’ve said goodbye to everyone I care for.
I spin around and grip the rail, staring hard into the rolling water below.
The quick anger is probably a result of the onslaught of emotions I’ve had to deal with in the last day, but now, as I stare into the waves, my outburst having settled between us, I feel a twinge of guilt.
He’s had to deal with just as much as I have, if not more.
But he’s the only one I can show my true self to, the only one who can see the real me, not the version of me where everything I feel hides beneath the surface.
He’s the easiest person to unleash my anger on.
The safest. The one who won’t hate me or fault me for any of my feelings, and tries to take them and bear the pain himself to save me from it.
“Lennox.”
I try to hide my wince as his hand settles on my waist, softly nudging me to turn back toward him, but I resist his pressure.
“Lennox, look at me.”
Letting out a breath, I reluctantly turn back around and stare up at him, but just as I expected, his sorrow and acceptance of my verbal lashing is written all over his face, and it all but extinguishes the fire beneath my skin.
“I can’t.”
“What are you talking about, Weston? You can’t understand that I don’t want you to call me that anymore?” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I understand you want me to stop, but the moment we step back into your kingdom, you are the princess. I can’t.”
My arms untangle and slowly fall to my sides as his sad gaze holds mine.
He can’t.
Because we’re going home.
There is no more forgetting who we are, no more pretending I am just Lennox. I am the princess, and will be to him, despite everything that has happened between us.
No matter how much he loves me.
No matter how much I love him.
Our titles will always separate us. Our duties will pull us apart unless we’re alone, hidden away behind closed doors.
I spent months trying to get him to see past that title, to see only me, Lennox, not the princess.
To live in the moment, here on Dawnlin, where we didn’t have to answer to anyone but ourselves.
To suppress his deep devotion to his duty as the First Guard, only for all of it to return the moment we can go home.
And for me to have to do the same, and become the princess and future queen I am meant to be.
My chin quivers as I look into his eyes, and see everything I’m feeling reflected at me.
I push up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Without hesitation, he closes the distance between us, his lips finding mine. The slow caress is everything I need. Dawnlin fades away as he kisses me, his movements gentle as he coaxes my mouth open, brushing his tongue against mine.
The first time he kissed me on this deck, only steps away from where we stand now, was raw, filled with fear and worry and passion, but this…
this is different. This feels like love, and certainty, and stability.
His mouth claims mine, claims me as his, reassuring me that despite my fears and the inevitability of my role, he isn’t going anywhere.
He will be beside me, just as he swore to me
Heat blooms in my belly as I kiss him back, my thumbs brushing the underside of his jaw as his arms wrap around me, his hands almost bruising through my thick clothes as he holds me close.
I’m stunned and breathless when he breaks away, but his lips don’t leave my skin, only move to press firm kisses up the curve of my jaw.
“Remember my words,” he grumbles before pressing a firm kiss.
“My sword.” Kiss. “My body.” Kiss. “My life.” Kiss.
“My heart.” I drop my head back, giving him more space as his lips brush the space just below my ear.
Shivers course through me when his teeth graze the sensitive skin, followed by the heat of his lips.
“My queen.”
The deep rumble makes my knees tremble, threatening to collapse beneath me.
I’m overwhelmed with everything this man feels for me, and I feel for him.
It was only ever something I imagined in my dreams, but he’s real.
I can feel him beneath my fingertips, against my neck, wrapped around my body, pulling me even closer to ensure I don’t fall.
“Not another soul can change that oath,” he grumbles. “Those words are for you, and you alone. I don’t give a fuck if anyone doesn’t like it. Until the breath stills in my lungs, I’m yours.”
His words reverberate through me, warming every cold and lonely corner and giving me hope that despite everything we’ve been through, it will all turn out exactly how we want it. I didn’t realize my eyes were closed until they flutter open as I lower my chin, to find his teal eyes sparkling.
Digging my fingers into his hair, I pull his face to mine, the movements not soft like before.
I crush our lips together, and he follows my lead, walking me backward until my body hits the railing.
Without a hitch in the lavishing movement of his tongue, he lifts me onto the railing, quickly stepping between my thighs.
Eager hands slide up the sides of my legs, over my hips and settle on my low back, pressing the heat of my core against the firm planes of his body.
I groan impatiently when he breaks away and settles his forehead against mine.
“It’s taking everything I have not to take you back to our room and fuck you in my bed one last time.”
“I have a bed back at the castle.” I lean forward, pressing another slow kiss to his lips.
“Technically, I do too,” he says. “Or at least I did.”
I pull away just enough so my lips barely brush his as I lower my voice to a playful murmur. “But I have a closet full of ball gowns.”
His grin widens against my lips, and I lean back so my eyes can scan his, finding them filled with playful excitement.
“That’s a much better idea, my queen.” It only lasts for a moment though, before his smile falters and his expression turns serious. “Are you ready?”
I nod slowly, my lips pursed together.
Standing to his full height, his arm encircles my waist, supporting me so there is no chance I’ll fall back into the water. His hand finds the wooden railing next to me, his fingers wrapping around it as he looks out over the sea toward the island.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, not to me, but to whatever magic is listening. His gaze falls to where his hand rests on the rail, then up to the helm on the quarterdeck, no doubt saying goodbye to his ship, his place of refuge.
He finds the pouch at his belt, slipping his hand inside before pulling out a fistful of glowing dust. I circle his body, clasping my hands firmly behind him, and settle into his chest, sending my own silent thank you to the island for letting us have this moment, just the two of us, before life and time return.
A single tear slides from the corner of my eye, dampening his uniform where my face presses into him.
“Let’s go home, Weston.”